any _special_ design in the construction of that particular bay, and
fall back upon the theory of a much more _general_ design in the
construction of one great scheme of Nature as a whole. In short he would
require to dislodge his argument from the special adjustments which in
the first instance appeared to him so suggestive, to those general laws
of Nature which by their united operation give rise to a cosmos as
distinguished from a chaos.

Now I have been careful thus to present in all its more important
details an imaginary argument drawn from inorganic nature, because it
furnishes a complete analogy to the actual argument which is drawn from
organic nature. Without any question, the instances of apparent design,
or of the apparently intentional adaptation of means to ends, which we
meet with in organic nature, are incomparably more numerous and
suggestive than anything with which we meet in inorganic nature. But if
once we find good reason to conclude that the former, like the latter,
are all due, not to the immediate, special and prospective action of a
contriving intelligence (as in watch-making or creation), but to the
agency of secondary or physical causes acting under the influence of
what we call general laws, then it seems to me that no matter how
numerous or how wonderful the adaptations of means to ends in organic
nature may be, they furnish one no other or better evidence of design
than is furnished by any of the facts of inorganic nature.

For the sake of clearness let us take any special case. Paley says, 'I
know of no better method of introducing so large a subject than that of
comparing a single thing with a single thing; an eye, for example, with
a telescope.' He then goes on to point out the analogies between these
two pieces of apparatus, and ends by asking, 'How is it possible, under
circumstances of such close affinity, and under the operation of equal